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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25681996">it's all uphill from here (at least i hope so)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/donniedont/pseuds/donniedont'>donniedont</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Confessions, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Reunions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:55:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,843</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25681996</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/donniedont/pseuds/donniedont</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p><br/>There’s a shameful part of Mercedes that feels relieved when Dimitri goes unconscious.  He’s never been her favorite patient to treat, even before they lost him for five years.  He’s always been deceptive, refusing to reveal the extent of his injuries or waiting until wounds begin to dry against his clothes before he feels comfortable having Mercedes look at them.  With Dedue’s steady grip and hers and Marianne’s hands racing across the open wounds, they are able to get him stable enough that he can move with far more speed than if he was awake.</p>
</blockquote><p>Mercedes is prepared to follow Claude back to Garreg Mach after Dimitri is gravely injured.  That doesn't mean that she trusts him.  A Verdant Wind AU set in the same universe as "lead me down the styx" by Ethereally.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mercedes von Martritz/Dedue Molinaro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>it's all uphill from here (at least i hope so)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereally/gifts">Ethereally</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Welcome to my Mercedue... hee hee.  This was made possible by an anonymous commissioner!  Thank you, you know who &gt;:)</p><p>Thank you so much to Eth for letting me play in your world for a little bit!  I had a lot of fun.  And thank you so much to Reem for taking the time to beta this!</p><p>Anyway, this fic is set to the same universe as <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23765878">"lead me down the styx" by Ethereally</a>.  You don't need to read this fic to follow this story, but it's really good and gives context to the dimiclaude subplot and Claude's intentions. </p><p><b><span class="u">Content Warnings</span></b>  Implied past self-injury</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s a shameful part of Mercedes that feels relieved when Dimitri goes unconscious.  He’s never been her favorite patient to treat, even before they lost him for five years.  He’s always been deceptive, refusing to reveal the extent of his injuries or waiting until wounds begin to dry against his clothes before he feels comfortable having Mercedes look at them.  With Dedue’s steady grip and hers and Marianne’s hands racing across the open wounds, they are able to get him stable enough that he can move with far more speed than if he was awake.</p><p>She eventually looks up, seeing Claude standing nearby, his green eyes tracking Marianne and Mercedes’s hands.  </p><p>“He’s stable,” Mercedes finally says.</p><p>Claude nods his head eagerly, though his face did not shift into any form of a smile.  “Thank you,” he says.</p><p>Mercedes squints at him.  What did he have to be thankful for?  He’s the one who took out his enemy and left Mercedes with smeared blood against her dress, Dimitri’s screams still ringing in her ears.  There aren’t any thanks to be given during war, though she supposes that Claude has never been one to follow the procedures of it.</p><p>“I… I would like to offer Garreg Mach as a place for you to be able to recuperate,” Claude says.  He brings his hand to his hair, pushing back his brown hair. “Seeing as His Majesty is incapacitated, I suppose I have to defer to Dedue on this.”</p><p>Mercedes immediately turns towards Dedue.  She wishes she can reach out toward his face, to touch the only part of his skin that is exposed, but she resists, feeling Dimitri’s blood between her fingers.  Instead she watches as Dedue’s face shifts from stern, to shocked, to resigned, taking a deep enough breath that his shoulders rise and fall. </p><p>“We will follow you to Garreg Mach,” he says.</p><p>“Would you like me to bring someone to carry…” Claude starts.</p><p>“I will carry him,” Dedue replies, narrowing his eyes for a brief moment before he shifts Dimitri toward Mercedes.  Mercedes holds him close, unable to resist pushing his limp hair out of his face.  She swears that Dedue had pulled his hair back at the beginning of the battle, but the tie is long gone, a shag of blond covering his face.  It’s the closest she has gotten to his face in years, appearing strangely serene even with his sunken in eye and cracked lips.  Dedue bends down, carefully cradling Dimitri in his arms.</p><p>“And you’re certain you can?” Claude asks.</p><p>“I will let the appropriate people know if I am no longer able to,” Dedue says.  </p><p>Mercedes bites the inside of her lip, trying her best to stifle a laugh as Claude blinks several times and says, “Of course.  Thank you.”</p><p>Mercedes slowly gets up, feeling her body lurch forward without even realizing it until Marianne catches her.  Dedue appears stuck in place, his eyes wide and his grip around Dimitri firm.  </p><p>“Mercedes, do you need…” Claude starts.</p><p>“<em>No</em>,” Mercedes snaps without even hearing whatever he’s attempting to offer.  She takes a breath, bringing her hand to her forehead.  She overexerted herself.  It’s not something she does much at this point, but it can still happen.  Marianne guides Mercedes toward Dedue and she brings her hand toward the back of Dedue’s arm.  She feels the cold metal against her fingertips and allows herself to press her forehead against him.  She feels relief, even if it’s for a moment.</p><p>Claude coordinates the effort to form the lengthy procession back to Garreg Mach.  Mercedes stays close to Dedue and Dimitri, feeling strangely content with the exaggerated amount of space everyone grants them.</p><p>She watches Dedue cradle Dimitri’s head against his chest.  There are moments that Dimitri looks like he might wake up, pushing back against a position, his eye moving under his lid, but he never opens it.  She doubts that he will remember this whenever he does finally wake up.</p><p>She occasionally sees her former classmates, Ingrid staring at her for an uncomfortably long moment before she takes to the sky, Sylvain’s horse trailing behind, a playful smirk on his lips, even with the concern clearly spilling into his gaze.  </p><p>Mercedes wishes she can be angry at them.  It would be easier to feel it, to let the feeling course through her and leave her hands clenched and her voice roaring loudly as everyone looks on with fear in their eyes.  </p><p>It’s an intoxicating thought, but it stays as one.  She feels too numb for the feeling to slide from her mind, the only things she can allow herself to do being walking forward.</p><p>The silhouette of Garreg Mach begins to loom over the horizon.  She can’t help but lean against Dedue, Dedue finding a way to lean in and kiss the top of her head while keeping the back of Dimitri’s neck supported.</p><p>Mercedes remains on her tiptoes for a moment, allowing herself to enjoy this moment of affection surrounding the dark unknown that they are walking into.  Dedue has that effect, though she doubts he’s entirely aware of it.  </p><p>Garreg Mach appears to be in rougher shape than Mercedes anticipated.  Buildings are still standing, but they have notable damage, brickwork cracked, sometimes even shattered, piles of rock seemingly untouched from five years ago.  Memories inevitably cross her mind, visions of former classmates behind every corner or looking out of every window.  </p><p>Claude’s white wyvern flies overhead, landing near Dedue and Mercedes.  Mercedes starts tracking Claude’s movements, eventually finding herself distracted by his wyvern.  She’s different from the wyverns Mercedes typically witnesses in battle in ways beyond her color, leaning her head back as Claude brought his face against it.  The moment passes quickly, Claude swinging his legs off of her before closing the gap between them.</p><p>“Has his condition changed at all?” Claude asks.</p><p>More concern for Dimitri.  It feels misplaced no matter how many times she hears it.  </p><p>“He’s still unconscious,” Dedue replies.</p><p>Claude nods, his lips moving before he finally says, “Let’s get him in a room.  I’m sure you’re exhausted.”</p><p>It’s a sweet sentiment, but it certainly doesn’t factor in that Dedue will not take invitations to relax unless they include some degree of force.  So as soon as Dimitri is lying down and Annette promises she will keep watch, Dedue is taking on new tasks as Mercedes checks in on Kingdom soldiers.  She finds herself having multiple instances that she is in the midst of closing a wound as Dedue darts past, one half of a cot in his arms as Claude holds the other end.  Claude sounds strangely frantic, making jokes and teasing as Dedue quietly provides steady barbs back.  She knows that he is coping.  Even with his sense of humor shining through more often than it used to, she knew that it was another way to deflect.  But she knows she isn’t going to be able to pick up his pieces if they are to have that conversation.  </p><p>She catches her stomach lurching after closing a laceration to a soldier’s head and she stops herself from pushing herself further.  Instead, she pads toward Dimitri’s room, Annette and Ashe sitting near him and talking quietly.  Mercedes stands in the doorway, listening to them.  They’re exuberant, telling Dimitri about how strange it feels to be back at Garreg Mach.  How they have heard the dining hall is still running and they wonder if the food will taste similar.  That they hope he wakes up soon.</p><p>She lets them talk until she wills a smile on her lips, gently clasping her hands on their shoulders as she approaches.  Annette shuffles over in her seat, allowing Mercedes to squat awkwardly in the open space she provides.  She joins them in the conversation, telling herself that maybe, just maybe, Dimitri can hear them.</p><p>Dedue eventually joins them, content standing behind them, gripping the back of the chairs.  He speaks deliberately, imploring them to create a schedule to make sure that Dimitri is not left unattended.</p><p>Nobody wants to say it, but they know that it is out of fear.  Even with Marianne’s willingness to help heal and Claude’s unsteady smile, there has been no indication that the Alliance’s intentions are to provide an ounce of kindness to them.  So they divvy up three different shifts, Annette taking the evening shift, Dedue taking over in the morning, and Ashe taking up the afternoon.  Mercedes is willing to jump in, but is politely turned down, the other three pointing out that she should make sure she can devote her time tending to her patients, Dimitri included.  </p><p>She agrees to it, unable to resist fussing with Dimitri.  She opens up the collar of his fresh tunic, making sure he hadn’t bled through any of his bandages.  She is satisfied, undoing his eye patch and setting it aside.  She can hear Annette and Ashe gasp, realizing that Dedue and Mercedes are most likely the only people who were able to see the extent of the damage.  </p><p>She still doesn’t have the full story regarding what happened.  In many ways, it’s not her business.  Whatever happened, the eye is gone, the scars surrounding the socket raised, but healed.  She places the eye patch on a nearby desk, hoping that it’s visible enough for Dimitri if he wakes up and wants it.  </p><p>She places her hand against his face, trying to ignore the way her fingernails seem to fit against the crescent moon scars that are above his eye socket.  She worries about him waking up and seeing her like this, immediately sitting back in her chair.  </p><p>They hear a knock in the doorway and they all turn around, seeing Claude standing there.  He has changed out of his elaborate battle outfit, trading the gold and brown leather detailing for a nondescript pair of riding pants and collared shirt.  His hair falls in his face, soft curls obscuring his green eyes in a way that could make him pass for the boyish house leader he was five years ago, if not for the coarse facial hair lining his face.</p><p>It’s reassuring, in its own way.  She’s certain that Claude is too clever to ever truly be unarmed.  But there’s comfort in having her friends at her sides, who are still in their armor and gear for a fight, even with blood stains now brown against her dress.</p><p>“I was hoping I could speak with all of you,” he says.  He’s smiling, but his fingers are gripping tightly against the frame of the door.  </p><p>Ashe and Annette get up, flanking Dedue.  Mercedes gets up as well, staying right behind them.  She does not ignore Dedue crossing his arms and Ashe’s hand gripping his bow.  Claude appears unbothered, making no effort to enter the room.</p><p>“You may speak,” Dedue says.</p><p>Claude nods.  “Thanks,” he says, bringing his fist to his mouth and staring down for a long moment.  He finally looks up again, bringing his hand down before he says, “I want to be clear that you are not prisoners.”</p><p>It’s a relief.  Mercedes can feel her shoulders loosen as soon as she hears the news.  </p><p>Claude clears his throat.  “You can use whatever facilities you need at Garreg Mach.  Your dorms are untouched, so feel free to use them.  We might be a little low on fresh linens, unfortunately.”</p><p>Mercedes watches Annette, Ashe, and Dedue turn toward each other, distress in their eyes.  Dimitri was hardly a conversationalist, but it was easier to hide behind his title and obligation in times like this.  </p><p>Thankfully, Dedue takes a slight step forward before he says, “We appreciate such accommodations.”</p><p>“They’re pretty meager, if I’m being honest,” Claude says, “Ideally, I would be able to offer you far more.  But supplies are spread thin right now.”  He kicks his boot against the doorway.  “Mercedes, would you like to oversee Dimitri’s treatment during this time?”</p><p>Mercedes tries her best to glare before she snarls, “Of course I will.”  Claude doesn’t react other than provide a sympathetic nod.  Dedue brings his hand back toward her and she grabs it, knowing it’s his way of reminding her to stay calm.</p><p>She grips his hand tightly.  Dedue has provided boundless patience toward Claude, though she isn’t quite certain how he can do it.  It’s authentic, drastically different from the biting remarks that he is able to weave when he speaks to people he would rather not.</p><p>“Thank you for your generosity,” Dedue says calmly.</p><p>“Of course,” Claude says, “We can suspend politics until Dimitri has recovered.”</p><p>Now Dedue’s the one tightening his fingers around Mercedes’s hand.  They both know that the concept of his recovery is complicated, a knot in embroidery thread that she wishes she can just cut out but knows she can’t.  Instead of either of them saying anything, they nod.</p><p>Claude leaves soon after, giving them shaky goodbyes.  Mercedes hopes that he has stopped skulking around for the night, but she supposes that she should be grateful.  Like he said, she’s not a prisoner.</p><p>Annette urges everyone to try to sleep soon after.  She promises that she can stay awake, Dedue offering to come in an hour or two earlier to start his shift.  Annette shrieks and refuses to let him even consider it, Mercedes being grateful that someone was attempting to set boundaries for him.  Ashe offers to give Annette books to read and Dedue and Mercedes slowly leave the room, taking one last look at Dimitri’s resting form before they walk out into the night.</p><p>The air is cool against Mercedes’s skin, her body feeling the slightest chill after an entire day of dried sweat clinging to her skin.  They spot Dedue’s room easily enough, candlelight lining the bottom of the room next to his.</p><p>“The Professor must be in their room,” Mercedes murmurs.  She realizes that she has seen little of the professor since the battle.  She doesn’t have much desire to see them.  She entertained her own ideas of transferring to the Golden Deer back at the Academy.  She was intrigued by them, their eyes always somewhat disarming, as if they were baiting her to confess her darkest secrets.  But the thoughts were always fleeting, her heart rooted firmly where she started.</p><p>Dedue cautiously approaches his old door, jiggling the doorknob to confirm that it is locked.  He whispers, “Do you have a hair pin on you?” keeping his face close to hers.</p><p>Mercedes nods, yanking one out that has kept her hat on the entire day.  He thanks her before he sticks it into the keyhole, moving it up and down.</p><p>Mercedes watches him, Dedue’s face seemingly unreadable until his lips pull back into a grimace.  </p><p>“Dearest?” Mercedes asks.</p><p>“Yes?” Dedue replies.</p><p>“Do you not know how to pick a lock?”</p><p>Dedue ducks his head, his face disappearing into his scarf.  Mercedes laughs, tugging him down to kiss his cheek before she bats his hands away, resuming the lock picking.  It takes several tries, but Dedue waits patiently, his face still in his scarf.  His eyes crinkle when Mercedes is able to get the lock to pop, the door swinging open with a groan.</p><p>The two of them stand in the doorway for a long moment, realizing that they don’t have a lantern to help navigate.  They find several old candles, Mercedes using magic to light them.  She lets Dedue walk around the room, leaving swirls of kicked up dust in his path.  </p><p>The room smells stale, untouched since battle broke out.  Dedue rummages, pushing aside dead potted plants and school books as he searches for something without much explanation.  </p><p>She’s gotten better at allowing Dedue to be.  She always wants to know what she can, figuring out how she can support him.  But she knows by now that he will tell her on his own terms.  She has to allow herself to be patient with him, as he has been with her.</p><p>“I don’t want to sleep in this room,” Dedue says, grabbing a book.  He brings the candle toward the cover, Mercedes able to see that it’s something in Duscurian.  </p><p>“Is there any reason why?” Mercedes asks.</p><p>He takes a deep breath.  “I don’t want to spend anymore time having to spend my off hours in a room next to a professor.”</p><p>Mercedes snorts.  “Is that how you learned to be so quiet?” she teases.</p><p>Dedue brings the candelight away from his face, ducking his head away from her as he pulls a drawer from his desk.  He grabs a notebook, flipping through it before he closes it again.  “I have everything I need,” he announces.</p><p>They don’t linger in his room much longer, the two of them walking toward Mercedes’s room.  She finds it a little easier to pick the lock a second time.  The room is frozen in a similar way, the two of them focusing on cleaning up the bed and promising each other that they will finish up the rest of the room tomorrow.  They don’t say anything about how they are going to find time for it.  </p><p>Mercedes feels like her head is floating as she tries to fill a pitcher of water, finding towels that only mildly smell like mildew along the way.  She brings them into the room, locking the door behind her.  Dedue sits on the edge of her bed, Mercedes unable to resist taking advantage of her ability to access his face easier.  She unwinds the scarf around his neck, noticing the blossoms of browned blood spread across it.  She checks his neck, though she’s well aware that it came from Dimitri.  </p><p>“We should clean this,” she notes.</p><p>“We need to clean your clothes, as well,” he says.  He reaches out, resting his hands reverently against the stains on her chest and stomach.  She can’t resist the touch, lifting her skirt to straddle his legs, even with the metal of his armor poking at her thighs.  Dedue glides his hands against her body, his palms with enough force that she could feel electric to the touch, even under layers of clothes.  </p><p>She angles herself to his touch, allowing him to undo each button and tie carefully, a grace to his fingers that left her in awe as he readjusts her, slowly removing each layer and setting it aside.  </p><p>She tugs at his armor, assuring him she can finish up with her own clothes as he apprehensively lets go of her.  She smiles at him, allowing him to drink her form before he begins removing each piece of cold metal and setting it aside.</p><p>Mercedes tries to focus on dabbing at fabric, kneeled down in front of the pitcher and bowl she found.  She hopes that she can get some of the blood stains out.  Even in the dark, the water appears murky as she slowly treats the stains.  </p><p>“Did it get on your armor?” Mercedes asks, trying to keep her tone light.</p><p>“It did,” Dedue replies.</p><p>“Would you like me to scrub it…” Mercedes starts.</p><p>“No,” Dedue replies, “I will do it myself tomorrow.”</p><p>Mercedes opens her mouth, ready to assure him she knows how to do it.  That she’s watched him do it before.  But that’s not the point.  Dedue and Dimitri’s relationship is one of rituals, forged in the blood nearly a decade ago.  She wonders if either of them will ever realize that as much as Dimitri is haunted by ghosts that he is a ghost himself, lingering in the corner of Dedue’s mind, a weight in every motion he makes.</p><p>She knows better than to resent him.  There’s no need to feel that way toward a man who saved the love of her life.  It’s easy to remember as she looks over her shoulder, watching Dedue’s limbs move by candlelight.  Burn scars cast textured shadows against his skin, a reminder of the horrors that he experienced before they met.  In order for them to meet.</p><p>She quickly looks away, biting the inside of her lip.  She drapes the clothing around the desk and returns to her kneeling position.  She feels Dedue shift behind her, crouching next to her and taking one of the towels and dabbing it.  He brings it close to her cheek, lightly rubbing at her hairline.  “It got in your hair,” he murmurs.</p><p>“It wouldn’t be the first time,” she replies, keeping her tone light.</p><p>“I know,” he says, continuing to move to the other side of her face.  She reaches to find her own towel, dabbing it in the water before bringing it to his own face.  She gasps at the touch, having to snap her eyes open before she wipes his face and kisses his lips.  </p><p>It doesn’t go further, the two of them attempting to clean each other, even though dust sticks to the soles of their feet and their forearms.  Dedue kisses her and she graciously accepts it, feeling his hands against her face.  She rests her hands over his, kissing back and tracing Dedue’s heat against her body.  </p><p>“Let’s get off the floor,” she suggests between kisses.</p><p>Dedue nods, getting up and stripping the bed.  It’s the best they can do until they can find fresh sheets.  Mercedes feels her throat get scratchy, Dedue sneezing loudly and immediately curling up over himself.  She crawls toward him, coaxing him on the bed, bringing him close to her.  He curls up close, his lips brushing against her chest.  </p><p>“How are you feeling?” Mercedes asks.</p><p>Dedue doesn’t respond, continuing to kiss toward the base of her neck.  She moans, catching herself as she grinds her hips against him.  “Don’t deflect, please,” she whispers.</p><p>“He’s alive,” Dedue says, lifting his head.  “There’s still hope as long as he’s alive.”</p><p>Mercedes blows out the candles, searching for Dedue’s face with her hand.  She reaches out and presses her fingertips against the scars on his temple.  She assumes this is the best she can get from him.  </p><p>“How are you feeling?” Dedue asks.  His touches are featherlight, trailing down her face, her neck, her chest.  It’s enough to make her breathing hitch.  </p><p>“Terrified,” she admits.  She brings his face toward hers, awkwardly lining up their lips together.  She kisses him briefly before she says, “I’m a bit shocked that you could speak with Claude so freely.”</p><p>“He’s a good person,” Dedue says, his voice quiet, but steady.  He presses his hand against the small of her back and she lowers herself against him.  Her heart thrums quickly with anxiety, slowing the slightest bit with the comfort of Dedue’s skin against his.  </p><p>Mercedes brushes her knuckles against the shaved part of Dedue’s hair.  “I trust your heart,” she says, “I always will.  But how are you so certain?”</p><p>Dedue takes a deep breath.  He slowly makes circles against her spine with his thumb.  “Dimitri spoke highly of him when we were at the Academy,” Dedue says.  His soft motions shift to his fingers clenching against her.  He is evading something.  </p><p>“There’s more to that,” she says.  She wishes that there was enough light for her to see his face to know if she’s pushing too far.  She knows she’ll have to hope for the best.</p><p>“Dimitri’s feelings for Claude ran… deep,” Dedue says.  Getting closer to the truth, but not quite.  </p><p>“Were they in love?” Mercedes asks.  </p><p>Dedue sputters, his head bonking against hers.  She laughs, bringing her hand to her head.  </p><p>Dedue makes a concerned noise, his hand finding hers and squeezing it.  “Are you all right?” he asks.</p><p>“I’ve got a thick head,” she murmurs.  “Go on.  When you’re ready, of course.”</p><p>Dedue rubs her head one more time before he says quietly, “Dimitri was in love with him.  But I am unsure if Claude felt the same way.”</p><p>Mercedes stays quiet.  It’s strange to replay the day as an altercation between two former lovers.  It’s hard to tell if Dimitri’s reaction to Claude was any different from anyone else Dimitri determined as an enemy.  At least until she remembers the distress in his eye and the way he genuinely believed that Claude hated him.</p><p>She buries her face in Dedue’s neck, bracing against him as a shudder courses through her.</p><p>*</p><p>Mercedes wakes up to Dedue kissing her against her cheek.  She opens her eyes enough to watch him pull his hair back.  She begins to get up with him, yawning before she slowly begins to cobble together an outfit with items they had traveled with.  </p><p>“You don’t have to come with me,” Dedue notes, “I am simply taking on my shift.”</p><p>“I should change Dimitri’s bandages,” Mercedes says, “I can also check on the rest of my patients.”  </p><p>He slowly nods his head, seemingly resigned to the situation.  They get ready in relative silence, allowing themselves to hold hands as they walk toward the medical bay together.  It’s a public affection they never afforded themselves in the Academy.  Dedue lets go before they enter the building, Mercedes bringing her own to her hip.  </p><p>They begin to walk toward Dimitri’s room, Marianne spilling into the hall and staring at them.  She looks exhausted, the bags under her eyes reminiscent of how she appeared five years ago.</p><p>“Mercedes…” she starts.</p><p>“Can I help you?” Mercedes asks.  Dedue stops and she lightly pushes him.  “Go,” she says, “I’m sure Annette wants to sleep.”</p><p>Dedue nods, his eyes glancing between Marianne and her before he continues walking toward Dimitri’s room.</p><p>“It’s Felix,” Marianne says, “He’s refusing to let me touch him.  I was wondering if you could try?”</p><p>Mercedes sighs.  She hadn’t seen Felix at all the day before, though she isn’t certain if it was her avoidance or her mind processing everything else.  </p><p>“I’ll try,” she says, “Show me where he is.”  Marianne nods, leading her into the room.  Felix hisses like a wounded animal, his hand on the collar of his shirt until he sees Mercedes.  He lets go of the collar, the fabric exposing the curve of his chest.</p><p>“Good morning, Felix,” Mercedes says, flashing him a smile.  He has burn marks along his face that need to be tended to.  She turns toward Marianne and says, “Thank you for letting me know,” before Marianne nods her head and leaves.</p><p>Mercedes closes the door, crossing her arms as she stares him down.  </p><p>“Felix,” she says, unable to let her tone give way to fondness.  Even with all of his transgressions, she can’t deny the feeling of familiarity about him.  </p><p>“<em>What</em>?” Felix snaps.</p><p>Mercedes shakes her head, washing her hands in a bowl before she takes the seat next to Felix.  “If you wanted to have someone you’re comfortable with handling your care, you should have just asked.”</p><p>Felix hunches over himself, mumbling, “It’s not that I’m uncomfortable…” like a petulant child as opposed to a grown man.</p><p>Mercedes shakes her head, uninterested in riling him up when she has to make sure his burns are clean and his bandages are changed.  He glowers the entire time, but he’s quiet, refusing to cry out, even though his face screws up in pain.  She doesn’t blame him.  He must have put up a frustrating fight against Marianne’s past attempts, because they were not as clean as they could be.</p><p>“How’s Dimitri?” Felix finally asks as she wipes her hands clean afterwards.</p><p>Mercedes sighs.  “I haven’t seen him yet,” she admits, “He hasn’t woken up as far as I know.  But I’m certain that he will soon enough.”</p><p>“You better tell me the second he wakes up,” Felix snaps.</p><p><em>Why?</em> Mercedes wants to ask, but she knows the answer.  If Dimitri is a strangely amicable specter that grips tightly onto Dedue and shapes his intent, Dimitri is a ghost who used to whisper in Felix’s ear but disappeared when Felix thought to respond.  </p><p>Someone knocks on the door and Mercedes gets up, opening it.  She looks up and sees Sylvain standing there, his hands uncharacteristically behind his back.  He attempts to smile confidently, chirping, “Good morning, Mercedes!  It’s nice to see you again!”</p><p>Mercedes smiles, a little too tight.  She refuses to blame him for siding with Claude, but she can’t deny that it’s still awkward seeing him.  It also doesn’t help that she just spent the past half hour removing debris from burn marks that he definitely was the cause of.  </p><p>“I best be going,” Mercedes says, swinging the door open and hearing Felix take in a sharp breath at the sight of Sylvain.  She waves behind her before she continues to Dimitri’s room.</p><p>Dedue has positioned himself in a chair near Dimitri’s head, a pile of books surrounding him.  Mercedes smiles and kisses his cheek, brushing the side of his face for a moment until he kisses her cheek back.  </p><p>“What kept you?” Dedue asks.</p><p>“Felix,” she replies.  </p><p>It’s enough of a response to make him scrunch his nose.  “Ah. That sounds most unfortunate,” he murmurs.</p><p>She walks toward the pitcher and bowl set up, beginning to prepare to check Dimitri.  “It was,” she agrees, “Though Sylvain showed up afterwards.  I was curious about their conversation, but I know Dimitri’s bandages haven’t been changed yet.”</p><p>Dedue nods, returning to his book.  “I’m sure we can get to the bottom of it if we speak to Sylvain.  He tends to be an open book if you look at him the right way.”</p><p>Mercedes smirks, bringing her supplies over toward Dimitri’s bed.  Dedue adjusts his placement, giving her enough space to check Dimitri over in peace.  There isn’t much to report.  She was able to get the most worrisome injuries healed enough the day before and thankfully it’s mostly maintaining it.  In many ways, his sleep is a blessing.  It gives the wounds a proper chance to heal and to perhaps even leave minor scarring, unlike most of the marks on his skin that certainly lacked that level of care.  </p><p>She is unable to resist fussing with his hair, making sure his tunic is laying just so against his chest.  Dimitri has always appeared to be a strange paradox for her.  There were people looking out for him after tragedy struck, but it wasn’t enough to prevent the road that he ended up on.  She wonders if he was ever able to be given enough, or that this was just some hole that could never be filled.  Perhaps he is the one that has to fill it himself.</p><p>She sits up, watching Dedue read his book for several moments before she says, “I should be going.  Would you like me to come back when I’m done?”</p><p>Dedue looks up from his book, his eyes somewhat unfocused.  He slowly shakes his head, eventually saying, “I think I would like to spend some time alone with him.  If that’s all right.”</p><p>Mercedes nods.  “Yes, of course!” she exclaims, even if she can’t deny that there is a pang of jealousy that finds her chest.  </p><p>“You should also rest,” he recommends, “You have been working nonstop.  I don’t want to see you make yourself ill again.”</p><p>“I won’t,” she swears, “I promise.”  She gets up, kissing him on the lips before she says, “I will see you when you are off your shift.”</p><p>“Yes, I will see you then,” he agrees, kissing her back.</p><p>*</p><p>Mercedes wanders the monastery, telling herself that she is taking a well deserved walk.  In her defense, it appears that every soldier under her care is doing well.  There is always the fear of infections, but she prays for their recoveries and hopes that the Goddess will provide her that peace. </p><p>She occasionally sees familiar faces.  She holds her breath, curious if they are going to approach her and she only breathes when they wave and walk away.  She hopes that they are not offended.  In so many ways she would love to catch up, a strange, bright spot in the midst of this war.</p><p>She finds a patch of grass across from the dorms, sitting down in it.  She runs her fingers across the blades, taking a deep breath.  She flops on her back, reaching out and continuing to let the prickly feeling of grass poke at her exposed skin.</p><p>She has a feeling of dread weighing on her.  She knows that it’s because she isn’t doing anything, even though she’s certain it’s precisely what anybody wants her to do.  </p><p>She listens to the world around her.  The wind whips through.  Light conversation of people echoes as they are walking past.  A dorm door is unlocked, opened, and closed.  </p><p>She hears singing and she looks up, greeted to Annette walking toward her.  She leans toward Mercedes, her eyes curious.  Mercedes taps the spot next to her and Annette inelegantly flops across the ground.  </p><p>“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Mercedes asks, bringing her hands to her chest.</p><p>“I couldn’t stay asleep,” Annette admits, “It just is so weird… being in our old dorms like this.”</p><p>“Dedue couldn’t sleep in his room, either,” Mercedes notes.</p><p>“I don’t blame him,” Annette replies.  She turns onto her side.  Mercedes can feel her stare at her, but she tries her best to focus on the tree over their head and the blue sky that poked between the branches.</p><p>“Wanna hear something weird?” Annette asks.</p><p>“What, Annie?” Mercedes asks.</p><p>“Claude stopped by.  After Ashe, Dedue, and you left.”</p><p>“What did he want?”</p><p>“Nothing.  He just kinda.  Stood there with me.”  She yawns. </p><p>Mercedes considers opening up the conversation, but she is exhausted talking about Claude again.  His intentions dominating her thoughts is more than enough.  “Just let us all know if he keeps doing that,” she says, about all the effort she can spare.</p><p>Annette sits up, closing the gap between the two of them.  “Mercie…” she starts, concern in her voice.  She brings her hand close to Mercedes’s and Mercedes grabs it, lacing her fingers together.  “Mercie, what’s wrong?”</p><p>“I’m just having an off day,” Mercedes replies, “I’ll be back to myself soon enough.”</p><p>Annette frowns.  She looks like she’s about to say something until she looks up, something catching her eye.  Her lips move in a way that might be mouthing hello and she tilts her head down again.  A dust of pink appears across her cheeks.</p><p>“Who was that?” Mercedes asks.</p><p>“Ingrid…” Annette murmurs, sighing, “Guess I have to try to figure that out!”</p><p>There’s a joke somewhere about how a bunch of hardened warriors are fretting about seeing their exes.  Mercedes is too tired to set up the joke.</p><p>“Want a scalp massage?” Annette asks.</p><p>“I would love that,” Mercedes replies, tilting her chin and excitedly allowing herself to be touched.</p><p>Annette rubs her head, stringing a song together about how soft Mercedes’s hair is.  Her eyes grow heavy and Annette keeps going, making no effort to try to keep her awake.  </p><p>*</p><p>Mercedes wakes up to someone shoving against her, Annette’s voice cutting through her exhaustion.</p><p>“Oh <em>no</em>!” Annette cries out, “I fell asleep!”  She leaps up, hastily tugging at Mercedes.  “I think I just heard the dinner bell.”</p><p>Mercedes wills her eyes to open more, staring up at the sky.  It sounds absolutely impossible, until she notices that the sun is just not as bright as it was when she laid down.  </p><p>Annette starts fretting to herself.  Mercedes gets up, placing her hand on Annette’s shoulder.  “Let’s get dinner,” she mumbles, sleep still deep in her voice, “Let’s try to find Dedue.”</p><p>Annette nods, looking relieved that there is some sort of plan.  They find Dedue in Mercedes’s room.  They walk toward the dining room, Dedue picking at her hair.</p><p>“You have…” Dedue starts.  He pulls a blade of grass from her hair and flashes it in front of her.</p><p>“Oh… we took a nap,” Mercedes replies.  That’s more than enough for Dedue, who nods and tosses it aside before grabbing her hand.  Arriving in the dining hall is uncomfortably similar to when they were in school.  There are people they want to see, people they want to avoid, and a strange sense of anxiety when they realize that they have to find seats.</p><p>“Hey!  Over here!” they hear someone yell.  They see Sylvain and Ingrid waving toward them.</p><p>Dedue takes the slightest step back and Annette takes the slightest bit forward.  They both turn toward Mercedes and she says, “We’ve spent the whole day bumping into each other!”  She flashes her smile and approaches the table, feeling a strange relief that they don’t have to wander the dining hall aimlessly any longer.  </p><p>Even then, it’s not a harmonious reunion.  There are many conversations they should probably have before Mercedes can say that they are back to some variation of what they used to be.  But she wants to believe they can return to it.</p><p>For now, they talk sparingly, mostly asking for statuses regarding Dimitri’s condition.  Mercedes has to admit that she was asleep all afternoon, but Dedue is there to reassure them that he appears to be doing well.  Annette is uncharacteristically quiet, though her eye contact with Ingrid appears to be requiring all of her mental capacity.  Sylvain rambles, seemingly unable to control the conversation with confidence like he has in the past.  </p><p>Mercedes can’t help but be relieved when she sees the bottom of her plate.  </p><p>“We should grab a plate for Ashe,” she suggests and Annette, Dedue, and she say goodbye, collecting their plates and cups and leaving.</p><p>They arrive at Dimitri’s room.  Ashe closes the book in his hands, smiling and springing up to embrace them.</p><p>“He hasn’t woken up yet,” Ashe confesses.  He glances at the plate of food in Mercedes’s hands and he gasps.  “Oh, I could just grab some food myself!” he exclaims.</p><p>“We’re sparing you from Ingrid and Sylvain trying to make you eat with them,” Dedue says.</p><p>“That bad, huh?” Ashe asks.</p><p>“It won’t be that way forever,” Mercedes replies, flashing a smile at him.  “But until then, eat.”</p><p>Ashe takes the plate, sitting down again and slowly beginning to eat while Mercedes gets ready to check Dimitri’s wounds.  She makes sure to not linger, reassuring everyone that she will be back as soon as she can once she checks in on all the soldiers.  What she doesn’t expect is to see Claude in her travels again.</p><p>“I am beginning to worry that you are escaping your responsibilities, Claude,” Mercedes teases.  After all, she isn’t a prisoner.  Surely she can tease him a little.</p><p>Claude smirks.  “My to do list is taking a bit to finish,” he admits.  His face shifts to something darker, more sunken before he says, “I think I’m a bit worried about Dimitri.”</p><p>It’s a flash, but she sees it.  This look of concern that can only come with love.  She nods her head, saying, “If he wakes up when you aren’t here, I’ll make sure you’re one of the first to know.”  She pauses and admits, “I can’t guarantee the first.  I hope you understand.”</p><p>Claude laughs, running his fingers through his hair.  “I appreciate your honesty,” he says.  He clears his throat, looking down at the floor.</p><p>Mercedes nods her head.  “I’ll see you around, Claude,” she says.  She’s unable to resist ducking away from the conversation, preventing him from being able to exchange any more pleasantries.</p><p>She finishes up her rounds, able to clear people to leave the medical bay.  She hears laughter coming from Dimitri’s room and she enters it.</p><p>She catches the tail end of laughter, Annette awkwardly crouching in front of Dimitri’s bed.  She grabs Dedue, wrapping her arms around his waist and grinning when Dedue kisses the top of her head.  </p><p>“What’s so funny?” Mercedes asks.</p><p>Annette jumps up.  “I was showing off my Dimitri watching technique,” she says.</p><p>Mercedes raises her eyebrows, saying, “Well, let’s see it, Annie!”</p><p>Annette nods, raising her arms.  She spins around, landing in front of Dimitri’s bed and squatting down.  Her eyes are wide and she makes a strange humming noise as she cranes her neck at him.  </p><p>Mercedes covers her mouth, unable to resist laughing with everyone else.  She brings Dedue closer to her, rubbing her face against him in hopes of covering up that it was so silly, it was bringing her to tears.</p><p>Dedue rubs her back and she gasps, another peal of laughter escaping from her. </p><p>They chat idly together, Mercedes only suggesting that she and Dedue leave when she sees Dedue’s eyes grow heavy.  He’s unable to argue with her, saying their goodbyes before they leave the medical bay, Mercedes lacing her fingers with Dedue’s as soon as they are outside.  </p><p>“You appear to be in better spirits,” Dedue notes.</p><p>Mercedes shrugs.  She supposes that is the closest to the truth as either of them are going to get.  “I am trying to be,” she finally says.  </p><p>Dedue stops, grabbing her free hand with his own.  “That’s all I can ask.”  He leans in, kissing her forehead.  </p><p>She brings her head back so she can perch on her toes, kissing him on the lips.  </p>
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